


What We Owe

by platonicharmonics



Series: We Two Boys Together Clinging [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asthmatic Hosea Matthews, Bad Feels About Sex, Demiromantic Dutch van der Linde, Demisexual Hosea Matthews, Dutch van der Linde Has Bipolar 1, Dutch van der Linde Has Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), Frottage, Healing Through Intimacy, Healthy Relationships, Intrusive Thoughts, M/M, Making Love, POV Alternating, Past Abusive Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Thigh sex, Two Mentally Ill Men Try To Learn How To Bone Each Other, Young Dutch van der Linde, Young Hosea Matthews, imposter syndrome, navigating boundaries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29226216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platonicharmonics/pseuds/platonicharmonics
Summary: After the first year of Dutch and Hosea's partnership comes the first year of their intimacy — Hosea's past experience brings with it hidden landmines, and Dutch's naivete brings with it his own demons.
Relationships: Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde
Series: We Two Boys Together Clinging [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898260
Comments: 20
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! Here I am, back with yet another unexpected entry to this series. You can entirely blame [Selene](https://the-curious-couple-fanart.tumblr.com/) for this - after giving me a prompt, my mind was sent... reeling.
> 
>  **Content Warning** for detailed descriptions of an **emotionally and sexually abusive relationship** that is downplayed by the victim.

**_Illinois, 1874_ **

The door had barely shut to their safehouse before Hosea was jumping on him and giggling, causing Dutch to stumble back from locking the latch to feel his brain rock up into a white splash of desire as the scent of Hosea flooded his senses and the soft warmth of his lips began loudly assaulting his cheeks. Dutch chortled and gladly fell into Hosea's gravity well, letting himself slump against the man's front and grab him by the waist, stealing those gentle tickly lips in an open-mouthed kiss as their bodies swayed into the wall. A pleased hum punched out of Hosea’s chest as his back slammed into the wood, swiftly followed by a deep moan as Dutch slotted his leg between those two toned thighs, rocking the top of his own thigh against the growing hardness he felt in Hosea’s groin as Hosea suckled on his tongue, drawing out a broken noise from Dutch’s throat.

The abandoned office building, left empty due to some business or other going bankrupt from the Great Fire, served as their perfect home-where-there-was-no-home during their stay in Chicago. The windows were solid enough, able to be opened and closed when they needed them to, and marred with enough dust and soot to keep them obscured from prying eyes in the dim internal light. The floorboards were scuffed and mildewy, the ceiling was water-damaged and sagging in some places, but the boiler room was clean and kept them warm enough through the rest of the Great Lakes winter, and the top floor offices were open and airy and cool during the brutal heat of summer. 

It was there, now, four stories up, that Hosea started climbing up Dutch’s front like a mountaineer, prompting Dutch to shift his weight and flash his hands down to the man’s ass to support him, their kiss breaking to make room for breathless, ringing laughter as they got distracted nuzzling each other instead - and Dutch didn’t mind too much the neglected throbbing in his groin so long as Hosea kept running his fingers through his curls.

But still.

“Want you,” Dutch panted, resituating his grip as he switched from nuzzling Hosea’s neck to mouthing at it, prompting a soft growl from the older man. “Need you- schat-  _ please.” _

“Then take me to bed, big boy,” Hosea rumbled, nuzzling his nose into Dutch’s temple and clamping his thighs down hard around Dutch’s waist, and Dutch used the leftover adrenaline from their flight from the Law to heft Hosea up from the wall and take the teetering, stumbling steps it took to get them to their soft woolen bedrolls where they were laid out on a mat of canvas, falling supremely ungracefully in a mess of limbs and thrown-out hands that had them both punching out an  _ oof  _ from an impact that would leave a bruise on Dutch’s hip. He couldn’t be brought to care - in one breath he was rolling on top of Hosea, bracketing him in his elbows and his knees, arching his spine downward to grind his hard length against Hosea’s, and as pleasure splashed through his mind alongside the sweet sound of Hosea’s chuckling gasp, Dutch blinked hard and -  _ looked. _

Bright hazel eyes gazed back at him, circlets of amber around blown pupils, set in a handsome roguish face with high cheekbones and gaunt cheeks leading down to a chiseled jaw, etched with stress lines that spoke to his age and experience, crowned by light golden hair the color of the first rays of the sun that stretch above the horizon. The stretch of his neck was  _ sinful, _ divine arcs of smooth pale skin that led down to the shadowy cradle of his collarbone before dipping even further down to the faint fine downy platinum blonde hair peeking out of the top of his shirt, buttoned low with the top three left loose and open. Dutch always figured it was the conman’s way of teasing him throughout the day - a way to set his blood to boiling just by glancing at the man. 

As if Hosea needed to do anything to get his blood boiling. Merely waking up in the morning, feeling the warmth of his skin against his, and inhaling his scent even before opening his eyes had him panting at his neck and palming at his abdomen more mornings than not. And the knowledge that Hosea desired him back? That Hosea summoned so many unknowable and unrecognizable thoughts and feelings from the depths of Dutch’s mind, unique only to  _ him  _ so far in Dutch’s twenty years of life, was an experience so exotic and -  _ cosmic, _ that Dutch couldn’t help but to drape himself all over the man at least once a day.

He was drawn out of his dizzy musings by the feeling of Hosea sharply yanking his shirt out from his pants, diving his strong slender hands underneath to grab fistfuls of soft fat at Dutch’s hips and over his stomach, and Dutch’s eyes snapped back into focus to take in Hosea’s face, gazing up at him with a bright earnest smile and crinkled eyes, already stretching his head up, and Dutch let out a whimper before diving his head down to capture his lips, letting their mouths move and roll together and exchange each other’s taste as Dutch widened his knees and braced himself on Hosea’s crotch, relishing the tingling wave of gooseflesh that rolled down his back at Hosea’s needy keen and his own bloom of pleasure before he lifted his hands to start frantically unbuttoning his lover’s shirt - a gorgeous and soft powder-blue thing that Dutch desperately didn’t want to ruin.

Hosea didn’t have nearly as many reservations about Dutch’s own vest and shirt, harshly yanking the buttons undone on his vest before jerking his shirt off of his buttons and then shoving it down his shoulders. Dutch’s gaze broke to follow a button as it rolled across the floor but Hosea grabbed his chin and guided his gaze back with a panted  _ “I’ll sew it back on later” _ before arching up into Dutch’s touch, starting to roll his hips in a steady and relentless rhythm against Dutch’s groin. The melody of pleasure zinging through his cock where it leaked against his pants mixed with the sight of Hosea’s sharply defined abdomen undulating from within his opened shirt made Dutch’s eyes roll back into his head, leaving him moaning and gasping for breath as he shucked off his own shirt and dropped down to press Hosea flat against the floor, wresting back control by crushing him in a fierce embrace and grinding the man’s pelvis down into the wool with the press of his hips, pinning their cocks in glorious friction, and both men let out a broken noise as they sought each other’s lips again.

“M’close,” Dutch whined when he came up for breath, tucking his forehead into the crook of Hosea’s neck as he increased the speed of his ruts, feeling sweat running freely down the bare skin of his back as he worked his muscles harder, seeking that friction, that  _ heat- _

He absently noted Hosea harshly grabbing his shoulder and his ribs and planting his boots on the floor, and was only just beginning to slide off the haze of pleasure into confusion when Hosea flexed his core with a low growl and  _ twisted, _ flipping him over and pinning him onto his back in an explosive display of strength so fast that Dutch’s head was left spinning, barely able to piece together Hosea’s flushed face before the man was deftly ripping his gunbelt off and gently tossing it aside before removing his own, and Dutch fumbled to kick off his boots and work his pants down below his throbbing cock with shaking hands, feeling his heartbeat pulse in his dick at the marvel of this man half his size being able to manhandle him.

Hosea’s hands hooked into the top of his pants a few seconds later and tugged them an inch further downwards, pausing just long enough for hazel eyes to look up at him through golden lashes and pant “This okay?”

_ “Of course it’s okay!” _ Dutch barked with a laugh, covering Hosea’s hands with his own to aid them in shucking them off.

Hosea smirked and shook his head, huffing out a laugh as they both wrestled Dutch’s pants and drawers off, then set to work on squirming out of his own jeans and drawers as Dutch pulled off his socks. There was something soft gracing the way the light hit Hosea’s face when he said, “I like to check.”

“You’re an absolute gentleman,” Dutch drawled with a grin, “now come  _ on!” _

Hosea rolled his eyes as he finished tossing aside his socks, then started shrugging out of his shirt when Dutch grabbed him by the fabric on either side of his pectorals and yanked him down to him with a giggling yelp, crashing him down onto his front and using his compromised balance to roll the older man back onto his back, covering the side of his face in kisses as he brushed their cocks together, nipping at his jaw, shivering at Hosea’s broken sigh. He nuzzled at Hosea’s ear and whispered, “You ready?”

“Gonna start without ya if you don’t get a-” Hosea cut himself off with a laugh when Dutch quickly sat up and spat into his hand, positioning himself to grasp both of their cocks in hand and start easing them into a steady rhythm of slick strokes as they both started to roll their hips in tandem to meet each other. Dutch dropped his head down to press his forehead to Hosea’s at the same time Hosea dragged his nails down the length of Dutch’s back, and Dutch shuddered and increased his pace when the soft stretch of Hosea’s legs rose to embrace his hips and cross over the swell of his ass.

Hosea’s hips matched his frantic pace soon enough, aided by the leverage provided by his legs and his hands clinging to Dutch’s bulk, and the feeling of Hosea getting worked up against him, of his cock rubbing against his, both of their pre-come aiding Dutch’s saliva in turning their thrusts into a  _ slick tight glide, _ of Hosea’s breath coming rapid and uneven and mixed with small broken noises of pleasure as the older man mashed his face against the underside of his jaw — all of it combined into making Dutch’s vision white-out, plunging instead into all the overwhelming sensations of  _ Hosea. _

It was all he could do to pant, “God, God, look at you, look at you, feel so good, God, that’s it, oh God,  _ dearest, God,”  _ pressing a frantic kiss to Hosea’s temple which prompted the man to start mouthing at his pulse-point, and Dutch screwed his eyes shut as his pace stuttered and fell out of sync. Hosea soldiered on, brutal and steady against him. “Shit, shit, schatje, shit, oh God,  _ sweetheart, _ fuck-”

“I love your babbling,” Hosea whispered into his throat, snaking a hand down from Dutch’s back to join his in wrapping around their cocks. 

“You d-do?” Dutch abandoned his fairly useless hand and its lost motor skills to instead slide around Hosea’s hip to the small of his back, lifting him up off the ground with it as he continued to struggle to keep his hips matched to Hosea’s set pace. Dutch sucked in a huge breath and shook his head to clear it, unable to focus his eyes due to how close his climax was, seeping towards his groin from the outermost reaches of his skin. “Then God, baby, keep it up, keep it up, shit, that’s it baby, that’s it, God I’m so close, I’m gonna come, gonna come all over you, shit, God-”

Dutch sucked in another breath and kept rocking, feeling his cock twitch in pre-release, his rhythm growing unsteady and faster, faster, frantic. Hosea’s own rhythm became unsteady too - slower, shallower, running down like a worn out steam engine that threw a belt. Did he already come? Didn’t matter, he was  _ close- _

“-you’re so beautiful, you’re so beautiful, shit goddammit, oh God, y’feel so good darlin’, oh  _ darlin’-”  _ Hosea started going limp in his hold, sagging away from him as his hand stilled, and Dutch let out a noise of frustration and chased him down to the ground, curling around him and continuing to grind their cocks together as he panted, “Almost,  _ almost, _ right there baby-”

“Stop.”

The word was so soft and quiet that Dutch couldn’t quite process it at first, feeling it roll through his mind like a penny through a spiral maze as his hips kept frantically seeking release.

The second time was much clearer - and carried a brittle note so sharp that it lashed Dutch’s mind like a bull-whip.

_ “Stop.” _

Dutch’s eyes flew open and he sprang off Hosea with a mortified gasp, backing away to fall on his ass at the end of their bed rolls, eyes snapping into focus to take in every inch of Hosea for signs of injury or anything else that could be wrong. He didn’t see any clear injury, and Hosea didn’t seem to be favoring anything - but the man was feverishly grabbing his drawers and jeans and hauling them back onto his legs and over his still-hard cock with shaking hands, his head held low, but what Dutch managed to catch of his eyes was enough for him to tell they were glassy and far away.

“‘Sea?” he asked, voice barely more than a squeak.

Hosea either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him, moving in quick, jerky movements to get up to his feet and grab his abandoned satchel, striding away barefoot to the roof access with his open shirt billowing behind him and leaving through the door without a word, slamming it with enough force to shake a wall.

Dutch sat alone in the silence, feeling like a derailed train atop a lake of ice, feeling it start to buckle beneath him, dark cold hungry waters lapping at his hot skin as he hemorrhaged out all the sweet honey that was fueling him just  _ seconds  _ ago.

His thoughts shattered and split in a thousand different directions, a buzzing cataclysm of  _ noise. _

The surge of adrenaline and icy splash of shame and guilt clashed and mixed sickeningly with the leftover chemicals and hormones of safety, love, and pleasure, turning into a sickly sludge that slithered through his veins like something acidic, slowly eating through him and churning his stomach to radiate up an aura of nausea.

He shivered as his mind roared, unwelcome and uncalled for thoughts and emotions tearing through his consciousness like bullets, as terrifying and intrusive as a predator invading a place once thought safe, giving him sparks of compulsions that scared or disgusted him.

Certain voices were louder than others, but out of the mess, one was strongest:

_ He’s going to leave you. _

His hands also shook as he pulled his drawers and pants on before stumbling out onto the roof.

The summer sun was blazing harshly, searing the world in blinding light and heat that left the city of Chicago in a broiling ocean of churning air where it flooded around the concrete jungle of brick and mortar and cobblestone. Dutch would have wrinkled his nose in disdain at the cityscape of multi-story buildings and towers and browns and beiges instead of rolling nature if he wasn’t hyperfixated on finding Hosea, shivering like it was the depths of January as he swept his eyes in wild arcs around the roof, finally spotting the man sitting on the edge overlooking the filthy alleyways behind the building, smoking a cigarette. 

Dutch stood, frozen for a long minute, feeling like the weak breeze was enough to blow him over as he kept staring at the violently tense arc of Hosea’s spine under the blue expanse of his shirt, at the way the gray smoke of his cigarette obscured his face before the man took it away from his lips to breathe out a billowing cloud towards the sky, drifting off to join the toxic black plumes that poured from the factory stacks.

Dutch slowly put one foot over the other, stepping across the hot concrete with his pants catching under his heels, warily approaching Hosea like one would a rattlesnake caught unawares. “Hosea?” he prompted, quiet, his voice a flat and off-key note.

The tension bled out of Hosea’s back at the sound of his voice in favor of allowing him to curl into himself, his elbows sinking to rest on his knees, his cigarette dangling precariously from his fingers as he blew out another cloud. “Hey, Dutch,” he answered, his voice muted and monotone.

Dutch’s fingers fidgeted in a ripple across his thighs before he rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants. He cleared his throat, then said, a good bit louder than he meant, his voice cracking: “Did I do something wrong?”

Hosea lifted his other hand to drag down his face, rubbing at his eyes with a strained sigh. “No,” he said softly, and his voice was so low and weathered he sounded far older than his thirty years. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Dutch clenched his jaw and swallowed down the retaliatory frustration that wanted to whip out of him, furiously smothering it in buzzing molasses, consciously choosing to say instead, “Can I… come sit with ya?”

Hosea took another long drag of his cigarette, the tip flaring red and then fading back to hot ash before Hosea let it out in another lazy plume. “Sure.”

Carefully, Dutch stepped up behind him, then sidled to his hip, lowering himself down to sit at his side, hanging his legs over the edge of the roof. Hosea offered him a cigarette, and Dutch nodded his thanks, taking it between his own fingers to stick in his mouth, and he found himself already leaning forward when he sensed Hosea leaning in to light it with the tip of his. After a few long seconds, the tip caught, and Dutch eagerly sucked the smoke into his lungs as he faced away from Hosea, blowing smoke out of his mouth and nostrils as he idly kicked his heels against the building, curling his free hand into a fist so that it didn’t seek out Hosea’s.

His mind  _ screamed. _

“What the hell was that back there?” he asked, praying that his voice sounded neutral.

Hosea’s eyes grew lidded as some shadow passed over his face, his stress-lines deepening to add yet more years to his skin. He flicked some ash off the end of his cigarette as he idly rubbed at the inside of his elbow. Dutch felt the last sharp edges of his defensive frustration wash away with the tide of his concern as he watched Hosea’s hand knead the soft blue fabric.

After another long drag of his cigarette, Hosea sighed and replied, “Came up here to try and figure that out.”

Dutch considered him carefully, creeping his hand an inch closer. “Why did you run away from me? You know I’d never hurt you.”

Hosea quirked his brow upwards and shrugged. “I know,” he murmured. 

Dutch snuck his hand another inch closer across the stone. “I ain’t understanding, Hosea. All I know is you… recoiled away from me like I was some… some kind of monster and then stormed out without a word like you hated me, and you- that-” he felt his expression twist as he forced out “-that…  _ rattled  _ me. Somethin’ awful.” 

“I know,” Hosea sighed, his voice drawing in as tight as the knee he drew to his chest, resting his chin on it, his expression drawn tense and dark. “Only thing was I didn’t feel like…” His brow furrowed into something painful. “Didn’t feel like I was with you anymore. It felt like I was with someone else.”

Dutch moved his hand to close the distance, resting the back of his knuckles against the backs of Hosea’s, and when Hosea’s amber gaze finally met Dutch’s oaken one, the lines around them softened, his lashes rising to reveal more of his eyes, pulling back a defensive curtain to grant Dutch honesty instead, wrapped in a shroud of exhaustion.

“It was the ‘baby,’” Hosea said simply. “Took me somewhere else with people I’m not particularly fond of. I just needed… some time and space to sort it out. I didn’t mean to leave you high and dry like that, zeeskeit. I’m sorry.”

Dutch’s frown sank even lower as his brow pinched and his jaw clenched, his hand moving to fully cover Hosea’s. “I ain’t never using it again,” he swore immediately, serious as the grave, and Hosea’s expression softened even more. He pitched his voice down into a deep growl as he asked, “And who the hell were these people to make you react like that?” 

Hosea rolled his neck until it cracked, turning his gaze back out to the horizon again as he took another puff of smoke, releasing it with a sigh. “Some married couple I ran with in my early days. We’d hold up stages, pull a helpless damsel gig on the side of the road to lure people into traps, that sort of thing. The occasional kidnapping or muscle job.” Dutch’s frown twisted, but he held his tongue. “It was good money and good company for the most part. They watched my back and I watched theirs. They weren’t the worst people I coulda found.” He took a few puffs and thinly let it out in a long stream.

Dutch eyed him carefully. “So they just… dragged you around as their third wheel?”

Hosea huffed a mirthless laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, no, no. Me sleeping with ‘em was a condition for me joining up.” Dutch balked. Hosea ignored him. “Spent my days with ‘em in a haze of blood and jewels and booze and opium, getting dragged around to parties and the occasional orgy _. _ I was a way to spice up their love life, and it was good enough stress relief for me. Or at least a way to pass the time. And they did so much for me… it was only fair. Or so they said.” Tension began seeping back into Hosea’s shoulders and Dutch scooted himself closer, his cigarette forgotten in his hand as he pressed his shoulder against Hosea’s, a firm and warm connection that squeezed out the tension again as Hosea leaned his weight against him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em,” Dutch growled coldly, and Hosea threw his head back and laughed.

_ “Settle down, _ boy,” he drawled, shaking his head with a fond smirk, looking at Dutch out of the corner of his eye. “Everything was consensual. They never forced themselves on me. No, they just… everything was about debt with ‘em. Pulling one’s weight. They were likable enough people when times were good, but… the buck stopped when they felt I wasn’t being ‘fair.’” He snorted and sharply rolled his eyes. “They showed their full ugliness when I caught dysentery. Made me feel like I was the worst, most disgusting burden on Earth and like they were keeping me alive with their own lifeblood, like I was bound to ‘em for being so  _ ‘selfless.’  _ Even before, they had a way of talking that would tie your brain up in knots, make you believe that  _ you  _ were the problem, not them. And in my naivete, I fell for it. But then they started talking up a storm about all the things they expected me to do when I got better, and I didn’t like any of ‘em. I sure as hell didn’t have a  _ say  _ in any of ‘em. I realized I was more of a tool or a toy to ‘em than a  _ partner, _ so as soon as I felt well enough I got the hell out of there.” A slow smirk grew on his face. “With all their money. Of  _ course.” _

Dutch pressed himself even closer and draped his arm around Hosea’s back, pulling him against his side, and Hosea hummed as he melted into him, resting his head against the side of Dutch’s. Dutch pressed his nose into Hosea’s golden locks and purred, “That’s my girl.”

Hosea gently rolled his eyes but humored him, stubbing his cigarette out and flicking it down into the alley below. Dutch did the same. “Their favorite word for me was ‘baby.’ Got other people callin’ me that and other shit like ‘kitten’ or ‘puppy’ in the dungeons we crawled around in - again, consensual, just… bad memories. Made me react like a fool hearin’ it come out of your mouth. Don’t know why I let it get to me.” He traced a pattern into Dutch’s pants with his nail. “M’sorry,” he added, his voice an uneasy murmur. “I spoiled your fun and… ruined our good day. Forgive me.”

_ “I’m _ the one who should be apologizing,” Dutch said quickly, holding Hosea even tighter as his brow furrowed. “Shoulda never said that damned stupid word. Running my mouth like a goddamn clown.”

Hosea swatted his knee. “You didn’t know, idiot. Hell,  _ I _ didn’t even know that word was a problem.”

“Still feel like shit,” Dutch hummed, pressing an apologetic kiss to Hosea’s temple.

“Well  _ don’t,” _ Hosea said tiredly, swatting him again. “I just wanna… stop  _ talking  _ about it.”

Dutch nodded absently, rubbing his hand slowly up and down Hosea’s shoulder, then around the nape of his neck, then down his back and around his hip, kneading it for a long moment before sliding it to his inner thigh. “I could distract you,” he offered, tentatively. He slowly rubbed his thumb over the denim and added, “I could make you feel good.”

Hosea watched Dutch’s hand work like it was a dying bird - his expression crestfallen and shoring up tighter and tighter with each passing second. “I’d rather not,” he murmured. “Sorry.”

Dutch pressed a kiss to his shoulder and removed his hand, tucking it and its twin between his knees, ignoring the random intruding thought that prompted him to throw himself off the roof in a grand display of apology. “We could read together?” he tried. His mouth flickered into a smile for a second. “Or we could go out and replace all that money we just gave away. Get the law to make us run an obstacle course again.”

Hosea ducked his head and huffed a laugh, then turned his gaze towards him, his eyes containing all the warmth of the sun, the blazing light making his hazel irises glint in their full spectrum of rich browns flecked with brilliant gold and silver. After a long pause, he leaned in, and Dutch parted his lips in invitation but made no move, closing his eyes. After three heartbeats, he felt the soft warmth of Hosea’s lips meeting his own - chaste, but long and warm and so gentle that Dutch had to open his eyes and hold onto the roof for fear of falling off.

“How about…” Hosea slowly mused, the corners of his eyes crinkling as Dutch scooted himself back away from the edge, his ears growing hot, “we get out our map… and plan out where we’ll adventure next?” At Dutch’s bewildered look, Hosea bumped their shoulders together and ticced his head towards the city skyline. “We’ve done everything two men can do in this city over the past eight months,” he said softly. “Our bounties are one crime away from reaching triple digits. Every other gang around here knows who we are. Chicago is  _ done.” _ He pecked Dutch on the lips again. “I’m ready to move on with you.”

Dutch puffed himself up and smiled, then started laughing, kicking his feet again and looking out at the horizon. “I think eight months is entirely too much to spend in a city,” he assented. “We need good,  _ real  _ country again. And you know, I-...  _ Naw,” _ he chuckled, tucking his shoulders up by his ears.

“What?” Hosea sing-songed, his smile growing brighter as he reached out and covered Dutch’s hand with his own.

Dutch glanced to the side to share a conspiratorial smirk with Hosea. “Been thinkin’... we kinda rushed through Ohio.” He squirmed a little. “What if we go back and… take things  _ slow?” _

Hosea hummed from deep in his throat, a warm, approving sound, and kissed his cheek. “Sounds like we have a route to plot.”

Dutch clambered to his feet with quick, giddy movements, then held out his hand for Hosea to take. “Partner?” he prompted with a good ol’ boy wink. “Shall we?”

Hosea ruffled himself up like a preening bird and daintily took Dutch’s hand, letting him pull him up to his feet with a flourish.  _ “Partner,” _ he greeted back, his Appalachian accent wildly exaggerated. “Let’s.”

They walked back hand in hand.

\--

Dutch didn’t understand how anyone could look at Hosea and think —  _ ‘weak.’ _

What one couldn’t easily tell, observing the two of them standing next to each other, was that while Dutch’s towering height and bulk meant he stood a good five inches over the man and was twice as broad, Hosea still stood three inches taller than most men with a finely honed musculature that, while slim in silhouette, meant that he was  _ fast  _ with an endurance, limberness, and coordinated strength that would shame any other man Dutch knew. Any dumb lug could beat Hosea in an arm-wrestling match, and the man was shit at traditional melee, but Hosea’s strength was not that of  _ brutes  _ \- Hosea’s strength came in his knowledge, in his quick reading of people and situations, in his calculated words and myriad of masks that often defused problems before they started. And when any wretched soul was unfortunate enough to lay their hands on the conman despite his profuse warning rattles like a copperhead underfoot - well. 

Dutch quickly learned that Hosea’s philosophy for melee was  _ ‘If it’s still going after three seconds, you did something wrong.’  _ Illusions of honor were of no consequence when fighting dirty meant living to see another day.

The marks of scores of life-or-death scuffles were weathered into Hosea’s skin in the form of scars - knife marks and burn marks and the puckered craters of bullet holes, telling the story of a decade of hard and brutal living largely on his own. But what was harder to see were the scars the man bore on his mind, left by foes far crueler — a long line of past partners who saw the light radiating out from that man and, instead of treasuring it and kindling it, decided they were going to  _ use it, _ like the choked flames smothered within machines until they were all used up and reduced to soot.

He wondered, and  _ worried, _ often… what made him different.

Hosea told him as much, during that sacred confession their first night in Chicago as a blizzard howled outside the windows. 

Hosea told him that he made him  _ dream. _ That he made him want to change. That Dutch was good, and drove him to  _ do good. _ That he loved him. And in each other’s embrace, Hosea promised to never leave him.

In his weakest moments… he prayed that Hosea was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content Warning** for mentions of **past abuse** and allusions to **rape.**

**_Michigan, 1874_ **

Dutch hadn’t touched him in a month.

Of course, the man  _ touched  _ him - Hosea doubted Dutch would be able to survive if he wasn’t privy to the soft touch of another for more than three months. Their regular, everyday intimacy hadn’t changed - Dutch still greeted him in the morning with coffee and gentle headbutts, still ran his hand down his back just to remind him he was there, still bumped their hips and knocked their boots and threaded their pinkies together under tables. Still held his hand as they read in the evening or on stormy days. Still held him securely at night or nestled into his chest with little purrs in the morning.

But ever since he’d made an absolute fool out of himself with the young man during a day that should have by all means been one of their best ones - they’d given away a grand total of  _ a thousand dollars _ to impoverished families still cobbling their lives together after the Great Fire and lost the tail of no less than twelve lawmen unscathed, for Heaven’s  _ sake  _ \- Dutch hadn’t made a single lustful move towards him. What used to be everyday intimacy - lazy morning handjobs or frantic wall-grinding or holding hands and tangling their legs together as they jerked themselves off - vanished overnight, replaced by Dutch meticulously trying to conceal his hard-ons from Hosea and excusing himself to go relieve tension on his own squirreled away in some unknown alcove.

All because of a fit of hysteria - an unfair and overly dramatic meltdown that he took out on Dutch because he let old spectres hold power over him from over seven years ago.

Hosea knew the man. He knew that Dutch wasn’t holding it against him or judging him for it. That wasn’t who he was.

No — if this was the result of anything, this was the result of misplaced guilt, spurned by Dutch getting so spooked at accidentally walking in  _ their  _ shoes that he ended up running barefoot into the hills and throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

Hosea tried an experiment, once, to see if Dutch was frightened off of sex entirely or just…  _ initiating  _ it. 

Ever since they first laid together that first night in Chicago, it had always -  _ always  _ \- been Dutch who initiated things, jumping Hosea’s bones on a near daily basis, punch-drunk on this newly unveiled universe they could explore together and driven by the libido that drove every man fresh out of boyhood like a runaway steam engine. Hosea remembered his own days on the cusp of his twenties - the main difference being, of course, that while Dutch chased every skirt around him and then later seemingly moved into Hosea’s britches, Hosea had… daydreamed of sunsets or his roughshod itinerary for the day while jerking himself off as curtly as he could. He’d fallen into countless beds after that, and with no partner had he ever  _ yearned  _ for them - had his body ever reacted with anticipation to their touch, had ever keyed itself so completely into his lover’s pleasure and felt it as his own. Dutch held that exclusive phenomenon. But just like his libido tapered off to nothing around the ripe old age of  _ twenty-four, _ so did his sex drive when it no longer had Dutch’s to piggy-back off of or provoke it into waking up.

Without Dutch initiating anything, Hosea’s sex drive was like a hiibernating bear in the peak of summer. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t act the part.

And so, one lazy morning in the midst of camp, their horses peacefully grazing not far off as the first rays of the sun crept up over their eyelids where they laid in each other’s arms, curled into a tangle on their bedrolls with Hosea’s head resting on his saddle and Dutch’s head resting on his shoulder, Hosea started a very careful process of soft caresses — he flexed out his fingers and slowly tucked a sweat-loose curl out of the man’s face and behind his ear, then smoothed all the other stray strands off his forehead; he cupped the man’s jaw and full cheek, running his palm over his wiry stubble for a long moment before wandering up to massage the shell of his ear; and then, as Dutch began stirring, Hosea slid his hand down to gently wrap around the open expanse of Dutch’s throat before slipping under his half-open shirt to caress the soft skin of his side.

“‘Sea?” Dutch murmured, his eyelids fluttering open to groggily squint at him, his mouth curling upwards into a soft, sleepy smile.

“Morning, zeeskeit,” Hosea breathed, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he slipped his leg between Dutch’s and pressed his knee up against his half-hard crotch, making the younger man shudder and gasp.

“Hosea…?” Dutch muttered again, blinking hard and slowly tensing up.

“Want you,” Hosea whispered in return, flexing his leg to softly knee Dutch’s groin in slow circles as his hand kneaded the soft rolls that bunched up on the man’s side, nuzzling his nose across his forehead and brow. Dutch’s breath hitched and he immediately melted, going pliant in Hosea’s hold and raising his hands to roam aimlessly around his torso in his grogginess, wheezing a breathless chuckle.

“Well this is a change of pace,” Dutch murmured, blinking awake a little more and hitching his hips up against Hosea’s knee, pulling Hosea down to kiss his growing smile - a request which Hosea happily obliged, sucking Dutch’s lower lip between his teeth and nibbling at it before licking into Dutch’s mouth when it popped open in surprise, bringing the hand not wormed down Dutch’s shirt up to cradle the back of his head and work his fingers through his curls down to his scalp, drawing out a mewl from Dutch’s throat that Hosea swallowed down like fresh water in the desert.

Dutch’s hands wandered up into his hair, in circles around his back, over the swell of his ass, and across the back of his thigh where it flexed and undulated against Dutch’s groin, giving and taking pressure in a languid rhythm, coaxing it into full hardness. Hosea eased his arm out of Dutch’s shirt and rested it on his stomach, creeping his hand down Dutch’s soft middle to slip his fingertips under the hem of his pants. He stopped, there, and broke their kiss to lean back and stare down at the man he had the dumb luck to call his lover.

Dutch blinked up at him, looking a little dazed and  _ very  _ excited, a twinkle shining in his brown eyes, containing all the shades of all the bark in the forests of the Appalachians and richer than any soil, crinkling at the edges as he let out a breathless giggle. 

When Hosea stormed out of his childhood home at the tender age of seventeen, he never expected to find a home again, so stuffed was his head full of dreams of fame and fortune and being a fawned-over star, traveling endlessly across the land free as a bird, subservient only to the winds of whimsy.

But looking at Dutch… 

Fame was bad in this business, and he willingly gave away his fortunes now, and most folk scorned him and spat on his name and sought to slip a noose around his neck - but he still got to travel the country. He got to be well and truly  _ free. _ And the adoring crowds of his naive and shallow dreams were replaced instead with the weathered and worn faces of widows or single fathers, folk who’d been trampled by the glamor of society due to the color of their skin or their inability to work, looking up at him from the money in their hands as a light ignited in their eyes.

Dutch had that same effect on him when he let his eyes drink up that suntanned skin, that mess of raven curls, the rolling hills and valleys of his soft yet muscled frame and the way his large smiles made his cheeks get rosy and knobby, like kerosene poured on a pilot light.

Even endlessly on the run… Dutch was where he’d laid roots.

Dutch was  _ home. _

“May I?” Hosea breathed, inching his fingertips further down into the dark coarse hair of Dutch’s fluff.

Dutch searched his face for something for a long moment, his smile teetering on a precipice between falling and growing. He must have found it, because the corners of his eyes crinkled as he nodded, his chest expanding in a large breath as he spread his legs wider. Hosea leaned in and pecked him on the lips before resituating himself, removing his knee and slipping his hands to the front of Dutch’s pants to open them up, brushing aside the front flap of Dutch’s drawers and pulling out the beautiful, hard length of Dutch’s fat cock, swollen and red in interest and twitching in his hand. It made his own cock finally twitch in interest and start to rouse itself as the smell of Dutch’s arousal wafted up to his nose, making his mouth water.

That was when Dutch reached out to pull him closer by the belt, pressing his palm against his crotch - his dick weakly zinged with pleasure at the pressure, but the feeling of its softness made Dutch’s body snap taut.

Hosea tore his eyes off of Dutch’s cock to meet the younger man’s gaze, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern as he watched Dutch cringe away from his hand.

“Hosea…” Dutch started, and why, oh  _ why  _ did he sound disappointed?

“What,” Hosea stated, flat, his back already tensely raised.

Dutch slowly frowned at him, awkwardly tucking his dick back into his drawers. “What is this?”

Hosea blinked at him, then gently shook his head, his heartbeat ticking up into something uneasy. “We haven’t fooled around in the morning in a month.”

Dutch broke their gaze to carefully button his pants back up. “That is… true,” he said stiltedly, leaning back on his hands to look at him, a flush still to his cheeks and his breathing still coming faster than normal.

Hosea inched closer, wrapping a firm hand around Dutch’s inner thigh, and the young man shivered. “You always liked me getting you off in the mornings before.”

“Yeah,” Dutch hedged, his blush growing as his muscles twitched and spasmed under Hosea’s hand. “But Hosea, it… it’s only if you  _ want… _ to…”

“Oh I  _ want  _ to,” Hosea rumbled, narrowing his eyes and crawling closer to straddle Dutch’s hips and plant his hands on the man’s shoulders, slumping his weight forward to shove Dutch onto his back with a soft  _ oof. _ His voice felt very far away and carried a provocative challenge he didn’t feel as he heard himself say, “What the hell makes you think I  _ don’t?” _

Dutch blinked rapidly and cleared his throat from underneath him. “Y- You’re soft?”

“Never stopped you before,” Hosea breathed, licking a stripe up from the bottom of Dutch’s neck to the base of his ear, and Dutch hiccuped a gasp as he bucked his legs out and flattened his hands against Hosea’s chest, lifting him up and out of range from working his mouth on anything else even as his hips canted upwards into the cradle of Hosea’s groin, and Hosea- didn’t quite know how to feel about that.

“Because I thought you like it,” Dutch ground out, his breath hitching into almost-panting as he flattened his hips against the Earth again, his hands fisting into Hosea’s shirt. “‘Sea, I don’t want anything that you don’t.”

Hosea deftly swatted Dutch’s arms to the side, slipping their grip off of his shirt before shoving them down to pin to the ground, drawing a faint, choked-off moan from Dutch’s throat. “Are my words not worth anything anymore?” he quipped.

A full-body shiver rolled through Dutch’s frame, and he took a slow, deep breath. “You never initiate… anything… with me…” he tried, his eyes getting very big and very, very sad. That won’t do.

“I’m initiating  _ now,” _ Hosea deadpanned, popping his weight up with his knees for a moment and spreading them wider before arching his spine and grinding his groin over Dutch’s, relishing in the hard tent in Dutch’s pants and the way Dutch’s mouth popped open.

“But- But w—  _ why?” _ Dutch pressed, his voice breaking as he idly writhed in Hosea’s hold.

Hosea gazed down at the man he had pinned beneath him — flushed, panting, sweat beading on his skin, twitching every other breath, his hair growing mussed from his squirming, his muscles fighting to shrink in on themselves as his pupils slowly dilated and contracted.

“Because I know you like it,” Hosea said gently, sliding his hands up Dutch’s wrists to weave their fingers together. He felt himself slowly seep back into his own skin, his own body, as he knelt there leaning over his lover - his partner - his  _ best friend. _ Not anyone else. Not any _ where _ else. And he wasn't lying or giving a wanton performance when he murmured, “And I want to make you feel good.”

Dutch gazed up at him for a long moment, slowly closing his mouth and clenching his jaw as his brow furrowed. “You don’t owe me anything, Old Girl.”

“I owe you  _ everything,”  _ Hosea replied instantly, feeling something burst in his chest. “You do so much for me, give so much for me, and you don’t ask me for anything in return. Nothing except  _ this. _ And how the hell is it  _ fair  _ if I don’t indulge you in this-”

Dutch immediately shoved Hosea’s hands away and let them go, leaving them to hover awkwardly over his stomach before grabbing Hosea by the hips and pushing him to the side to fall on his ass, leaving Dutch free to curtly extricate himself and clamber to his feet, hurrying to the other side of camp. “Dutch!” Hosea barked, scrambling after him, a sickly panic splashing into his veins again.

“You know what, Hosea? Just don’t,” Dutch said quickly, stopping and turning around to hold out a hand to ward off his approach. He refused to meet his eyes, keeping his gaze trained on the ground. “I’m not-  _ like that, _ all right? I’m  _ not!” _ he snapped.

Hosea held out his arms, wrinkling his nose and curling his upper lip in a wince. “Like  _ what?” _

Dutch lifted his gaze, then, and his eyes were filled with a dark, righteous anger as they shined in the morning light. “Like those goddamn monsters who used you like a whore!”

Hosea briefly rolled his eyes. “Which ones?” he drawled.

Dutch sputtered, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he shrieked, “There were  _ more?” _

Hosea lazily cocked a hip and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, squinting at the man. “If you’re asking how many people I whored myself out to who didn’t treat me like the goddamn King of England, Dutch, the number exceeds both our hands combined. That’s just how the world is.” He furiously flicked his hand out at the horizon. “Just look at any man and wife between here and Cincinnati and you’ll find scores of ‘em beatin’ on their wives and talking shit to ‘em and dragging them by the hair into bed whether they like it or not as the  _ rule, _ not the exception. And I was far luckier than they are. I wanted every situation I walked into and I  _ own  _ the  _ consequences  _ of whatever happened. I’m a big boy, and I don’t need you Shining Knighting me.” He slowly raised his arms to cross over his chest and knead at his biceps as he wearily added, “Besides. I played the villain my share of times too. Sleeping with folk just to rob ‘em or sell them out. So I sure as shit don’t need your  _ fussin’.” _

Dutch stared into his eyes, his own wide and mortified, his jaw and fists both clenched where he stood, looking down at him with a new and strange light glinting in his eyes.

Hosea tasted bile on the back of his tongue.

“You think I don’t know that most folk in this world treat their partners like shit?” Dutch croaked, squinting at him and shaking his head. “‘Sea, there’s a  _ reason  _ why I used to say that ‘Love isn’t real.’ Why I didn’t believe it even  _ existed. _ Why I thought everyone would be better off forsaking it entirely in exchange for  _ free  _ love, for the love of ideas and free thought and their fellow man and companionship. And I didn’t want for anything in the world.” Dutch quivered for a moment. “Until I wanted  _ you.” _

“Dutch…” Hosea started quietly, shifting his stance as his expression fell, his arms growing tighter.

“You’re different,” Dutch said roughly, taking a step closer.  _ “We _ are  _ different. _ We ain’t  _ like that, _ we- you- what we have ain’t like anything I’ve ever seen or heard of let alone  _ felt  _ before, Hosea.” He closed the distance between them once more and grasped at Hosea’s hands, coaxing them out of their protective cross to instead be held between them. “What we have is  _ real. _ Our- Our- Our  _ respect. _ Our  _ trust.” _ He rubbed his thumbs slowly over Hosea’s knuckles, and Hosea shivered. “Our  _ love,”  _ Dutch added, quietly. “All this-  _ shit  _ you talk about yourself, dearest — look, you’re my  _ shelter. _ I trust you with my life, I trust you with my body, I-” Dutch’s voice broke and he brought Hosea’s hands up to frame his neck, holding them there, and Hosea’s eyes stung so much his vision blurred, wiping away the vision of Dutch’s tented brow and large doe eyes. “I trust you with my  _ mind,” _ Dutch added, voice low and reverent, and Hosea was crushingly aware of the weight behind those words — bearing with them memories of how Hosea kept Dutch grounded when he was thrumming with so much energy for months on end that he became unmoored from reality, navigating an endless menagerie of half-cocked plans and threats with Hosea protecting him from both others and himself. “Hosea… you make me believe in soulmates. Because you feel like a part of my own soul, or- I feel like I bear a part of yours, and I just…”

Dutch slowly leaned forward until their foreheads bumped together, the both of them closing their eyes as they fell into the sensations of each other. “This ain’t about debt,” he finished, hoarse. “I ain’t keepin’ no scores.”

Hosea lilted himself forward to slump into Dutch's chest, letting go of Dutch's hands to instead wind his arms around the man's torso. "You sweet fool," Hosea managed, his voice muffled against Dutch's shirt as he blinked back tears. He took a deep breath as Dutch's arms came up to hold him, secure and close, one hand on the small of his back and one hand on the back of his head. "If we're giving grand, cheesy-ass speeches, I got one of my own," he croaked.

"Is that so?" Dutch prompted with a chuckle, kissing the top of his head. Hosea swatted him.

_ "Yes," _ Hosea said emphatically. He grasped Dutch firmly around the ribs and leaned back to look into the warm light of his brown eyes, shining with more softness than the dawn sun. It infuriated him. "Because I need you to understand that… I… I wasn't lying that night we confessed. You  _ are _ the first person I've ever  _ wanted _ \- I've wanted to get off before, sure, I've wanted people to do specific  _ things, _ but it was all about my own pleasure, and it was never from  _ them. _ And I didn't feel anything pleasing other people. Sexually, I mean - I wanted to make them happy and feel good, but it never-" He smacked his hand open-palmed onto Dutch's chest and felt his expression break, only to crumple even more when he saw Dutch's face mirror his.  _ "Please… please _ believe me when I say that my body may not always seek you out itself, 'cause that ain't how I work - maybe I'm broken, I don't care - but making you feel good makes  _ me _ feel good. And that is  _ novel _ to me. And if I don't want anything you're offering,  _ please _ trust me when I say I will  _ tell you no, _ like I have  _ countless times before, _ because I  _ trust you _ enough to  _ tell you no." _

Dutch gaped at him for only a second before he crashed his mouth into his, making his breath hitch as he closed his eyes and opened up for the man, embracing Dutch's tongue as they both clutched at each other and aimlessly caressed around each other's backs and shoulders, breathing each other in.

“I love you,” Dutch gasped when they broke their kiss to catch their breath.

“I love you  _ too,” _ Hosea panted, then kissed Dutch on the lips once, twice, thrice, before raising his hands and  _ smacking  _ him on the chest. “You  _ silly, infuriating _ man-” he bopped Dutch on top of the head, sending the man reeling back while laughing “-goddamn moron making me all soft-” he hopped forward and gently windmilled his arms, oscillating between swatting Dutch around their camp and spearing his hands to wiggle in the man’s armpits “-getting me to talk like a  _ SAP-” _ Dutch shrieked and skittered away while Hosea gave chase, giggling uncontrollably “-reducing me to an ooey gooey pile of  _ nonsense-” _

“‘In paths untrodden, in the growth of margins by pond-WATERS!’” Dutch yelped, batting away Hosea’s hands and barely missing falling into their campfire as he continued to giggle, “‘Escaped from the life that exhibits itself-’”

“Not goddamn Whitman!” Hosea howled, pouncing on the man and tackling him down to the ground in a mess of limbs and ringing laughter.

“‘-From all the standards, uh, hitherto publish’d - uh - from something something something, feed my soul,  _ tongues!’” _

Hosea wrestled with Dutch, growling and laughing through his teeth as he fought through the man’s flailing limbs to slap at him again.  _ “Romantic!” _ he barked with a laugh, rolling the R.

Dutch managed to flail his legs out and clamp them and his arms around Hosea’s frame, rolling him in the grass to pin with with a beaming smile and twinkling eyes as he continued, “‘No longer abash’d—for in this secluded spot I can respond as I would dare not elsewhere,’” Hosea thrashed and undulated underneath him, rolling them over again to pin Dutch into a patch of clover,  _ “Strong upon me _ the life that, uhhh-” Hosea slowly shook his head at him and snorted “‘-Resolv’d to sing no songs to-day but those of manly attachment-!’”

Hosea reached out and grabbed two fistfuls of fallen early Autumn leaves and shoved them into Dutch’s hair, making Dutch bark a laugh and shove Hosea back to fall on his ass, and the next thing Hosea knew they were both wrestling, grappling with each other and fighting to get the other in a headlock, wiggling in the grass with tinkling chuckles.

“‘If thou rememb’rest not the slightest folly that ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not  _ loved!’” _

“Lord help me he’s switched to Shakespeare!” Hosea wheezed, letting himself get pinned down again so that he could grab another fistful of leaves and shove them into Dutch’s mouth. He used the shock to slip out from under the man and lock his arms around his head, cackling.

Dutch spat out the leaves and dirt and grasped at Hosea’s arms, yanking them down over his chest before heaving Hosea up onto his back and clumsily clambering to his feet like an old mule, making Hosea scream in glee as he rose up into the air on his partner’s back, who started  _ singing  _ while spinning in circles, “‘If ever I cease to love~ If  _ ever  _ I cease to love~ May the moon be turned to green cream cheese if  _ ever  _ I  _ cease  _ to  _ love!’” _

“Stupid!” Hosea guffawed, clambering up Dutch’s back with his knees to clap the top of his head with both hands, and they were both sent collapsing and rolling into a patch of small white wildflowers, laughing uncontrollably with tears springing to their eyes as they settled onto their backs beside each other, their hands naturally finding each other and twining their fingers together as their rich baritone and smooth tenor voices rang through the clearing in their simple, sweet joy.

Simple.

Hosea slowly turned his head to gaze at the man, still convulsing with chuckles, the warm, reddish light of the day falling across his face and over his tanned skin like a lover’s caress, soft shadows embracing the languid arc of his throat, bore to the world from his wide open collar just like the man bore his heart, unshielded and unashamed. He didn’t understand how eyes so dark could be filled with so much light.

Loving Dutch was  _ simple. _

Dutch’s gaze drifted over to meet his, and at the look on Hosea’s face, Dutch’s laughter eased away like a departing tide, replaced instead by parted lips and a slow blink, inquisitive.

Even with Dutch’s mess of a mind… loving it came as easy and natural as breathing.

And like breathing, he didn’t ever,  _ ever  _ want to stop.

Slowly, telegraphing his movements, Hosea pushed himself upright by Dutch’s hand and dragged his body over Dutch’s, framing the man’s hips between his knees and taking his other hand in his to twine their fingers the same. He gently pressed those large, soft hands into the flowers and the soil beneath them, then lowered his face down over Dutch’s, mirroring their position from earlier when he was doing this for all the wrong reasons. Dutch was watching him carefully, his expression open and gentle, before Hosea slowly pressed their foreheads together.

“‘I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young men,’” Hosea quoted reverently, his voice a low, brittle thing as Dutch’s eyes flared wide, “‘To tell the secret of my nights and days,’” he slowly nuzzled his face along the expanse of Dutch’s brow before ghosting his lips over the man’s he loved. “‘To celebrate the need for comrades,’” he finished, leaning down to kiss Dutch slow and soft and sweet, feeling his heart stutter when Dutch opened for him with a soft sigh, obligingly licking into him to worship a tongue so sweet as he closed his eyes.

When he finally opened his eyes and pulled back, he saw a tear drip down onto Dutch’s cheek. Dutch smiled, a soft, shining thing, and stretched up to kiss the corners of Hosea’s eyes.

“I love you,” Hosea choked out, his voice thick.

“I love you too,” Dutch murmured, still kissing at his tear-trails, and Hosea wheezed out a broken laugh. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” Hosea nuzzled Dutch’s face back down to the ground and pulled back to look into his eyes again. “That’s the point.” Dutch’s hands tightened around Hosea’s as the corner of the man’s eyes crinkled. Then, after a long, heavy beat, Hosea managed, “Wanna go fishing? I don’t… think… I’m in the best headspace still when it comes to fooling around.” He slowly smoothed his thumbs over the backs of Dutch’s hands. “Think I need to… think things over. And maybe... tell you some things.”

Dutch slowly nodded, reaching up to peck him on the lips again. “‘Course,” he said softly.

Hosea pushed himself off of the man and offered him a hand, smiling when Dutch placed his in his palm and allowed himself to be helped up. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dutch prompted, winking and making his way towards their saddles.

Hosea watched him walk away and let out a soft breath, ducking his head to hide his smile for a moment before following behind.

His shoulders had never felt so light.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took my outline and set it on fire and then spat on its remains but- you know what? I'm still happy with it. And I hope you all enjoy ♥

**_Ohio, 1874_ **

Lightning streaked through the air in a brilliant, pale streak of glowing plasma behind the shadowy canopies of the forest trees, half a heartbeat before a violent crack of thunder snarled through the air and shook the bones within their chests. Empress tossed her head up with a hoarse cry, her eyes wide and her ears pinned back as they loped down the trail, prompting Dutch to lean forward and clap her neck, cooing  _ “Steady _ on, sweet girl.” The bay mare sucked a deep breath in through her nose and settled, lowering her head again against the wind and the rain that whipped against both of their faces, stinging like a branch full of thorns.

Riding into the shelter of a covered bridge allowed him to spit out some water and pull his hat lower, shaking out his head to clear the water from his eyes and look to where Hosea was cantering at his side atop old Vinegar - the palomino gelding looking unflappable as ever.

“Does that crusty cuss of yours ever spook for  _ anything?” _ Dutch called over as their horses’ hooves rumbled across the wood.

“Things spook for  _ him, _ not the other way around!” Hosea guffawed, throwing him an impish wink right before they emerged back into the storm, immediately getting swamped by cold stinging droplets once more.

And boy, Dutch still had the scarred teeth marks on his fingers to prove  _ that. _

He decided to indulge in the petty thought that Hosea and ol’ Piss n’ Vinegar verified the adage that horses take after their riders.

_ “Aww, why the pouty face, Dutch?” _ Hosea yelled through the rain.  _ “Horse got your tongue?” _

_ “He nearly bit it out once!” _

_ “Oh I’m sure he did!” _

_ “Yet you laugh! You laugh, you fiend!” _

_ “Damn right I do, O Horse Whisperer, Master of Horsemansh-” _

_ “SHUT UP!” _

_ “‘It’s all aboUt the soUl, HosEa! I tell you, if you approAch ‘em with pUre intention-’” _

_ “I’m not listening!” _

_ “Poor princess screaming like a cat in heat with his teeth sunk in ya-” _

_ “I hate you and I hate your horse!” _

_ “Okay bye then!” _

And with that, Hosea spurred Vinegar into a gallop down the right path of the fork when they were supposed to be going  _ left. _

_ “Hosea!” _ Dutch shrieked, his voice a shrill screech, and he clumsily reined Empress in a circle in his panic before spurring her into a gallop after the Kentucky Saddler and Hosea’s cackling, like a crow perched on the head of a scarecrow and taking joy in its own ironic existence. Once they got close enough, Empress kicking up mud in her wake, Dutch leaned out of the saddle and harshly shoved Hosea’s shoulder, nearly sending the man out of his own.

_ “Hey!” _ Hosea barked.

_ “Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it!” _

_ “Then use your words, you simpleton!” _

_ “How about these words: the hell’re we going?!” _

_ “We’re gonna get sick if we insist on riding all the way to Kettering in this! The map said there’s a smaller town this way!” _

_ “More like an outpost! We even gonna find a hotel?!” _

_ “There’s always squatting!” _

_ “I’m sick of squatting! I want a  _ real  _ bed, and a  _ real  _ bath, goddammit!” _

_ “No one’s gonna buy that we’re traveling businessmen riding into town dressed like a pair of bum country cowboys soggier than ship rats with the sniffles!” _

_ “You have such a way with words!” _

_ “Shut up!” _

_ “You shut up!” _

Hosea giggled, and Dutch’s heart melted at the warm, soft sound.  _ “I love you!” _

Dutch blinked through the rain to look at the man at his side as they galloped through the storm, and it took him a moment to realize he forgot to breathe. “I love you too,” he managed, breathless.

Hosea seemed to catch the words, however, because even through the sheets of rain, Dutch could see the man’s expression soften, and he reached out his arm to stretch across the distance between their horses. Dutch reached out his own arm, and blood rushed to his cold, numb cheeks as their fingers brushed through each other.

After five more minutes of hard riding, he called out,  _ “I think I see a stable up ahead! The town shouldn’t be far! Let’s get our poor friends dry and warm!” _

Cooling down and drying off their steeds in the quiet shade of the stable with the rain drumming on the roof above was an almost domestic task, and the act of brushing down Empress’s coat and combing his fingers through her mane was as soothing as it ever was - made even moreso by his ability to glance over her withers and watch Hosea soothing his own horse, looking at the gelding with a quiet affection in his eyes as the man scratched the old horse’s cheeks and rubbed behind his ears, sneaking in the occasional kiss or encouraging word.

It wasn’t just Dutch’s bias that asserted Vinegar was a bad horse — the senior Kentucky Saddler was slow, didn’t handle particularly well, and for all his fearlessness, he ended up getting injured whenever they got caught in fire too ugly. Hosea frequently bolted off his horse and onto the back of Empress with the order to run when they needed to makes high-stakes getaways, pacing anxiously around their hideout for hours until the gelding eventually tracked them down to be showered in scritches and oatcakes. Dutch gingerly broached the subject of replacing him multiple times - even offered to pay for or steal him a new, higher performing steed - but Hosea always politely declined. Usually while slipping the graying horse an oatcake.

Hosea didn’t care that the horse was a liability. He didn’t care that Vinegar wasn’t the fastest, or the most agile, or the strongest, or the most enduring. If every lawman’s horse on each side of the Mississippi could run him down.

So long as Vinegar gave everything he had to Hosea, so would Hosea give everything he had to Vinegar.

It was that profound bond of affection and trust between the two that keyed Dutch in so early that Hosea wasn’t the cold, uncaring, utilitarian man he claimed to be when they first met.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Dutch blinked owlishly at Hosea when he finally focused on the man’s stare, his thin lips pulled up into a soft smirk. Dutch huffed a laugh and sighed, smiling to himself as he turned his attention to his own dear friend, smoothing down her forelock and hugging her head to his chest. "Nothin'," he said softly, scratching his mare behind the ear to make her eyelids droop.

“Sure,” Hosea chuckled, returning to brushing Vinegar’s coat when the stablehand leaned around the corner to eye them.

When they were both finished caring for their horses and paid for two good stalls for them to stay in, Dutch asked the kindly man, “Say, feller, would you happen to know if we can get lodging anywhere?”

The stablehand looked up from pocketing their cash and nodded, leaning back on a support beam. “We don’t have a saloon or a hotel, but old Barney who runs the gun store rents out his cabin to those who need it. Check with him.”

“Thank you kindly,” Dutch replied, tipping his hat, and with that he and Hosea made their way out of the cozy shelter of the barn and into the rain.

As soon as they rounded the corner of the door, Dutch snatched Hosea’s hand and sent them both running through the rain towards the small settlement down the hill, holding onto their hats and laughing as they splashed through the mud like a pair of young schoolboys.

\--

“This place ain’t too bad.”

Dutch wrinkled his nose as he took off his hat, letting the water slosh onto the floor that collected in the brim. “It… could be worse,” he hedged, wrinkling his nose and toeing his boots off.

The ‘cabin’ of the town gunsmith turned out to be more like a  _ shack  _ than anything, with dull gray wooden siding, even duller gray wooden floors, and a tin roof. It housed only one room, with a wood-burning stove, a tin bathtub, and a single narrow bed in drab white sheets.

The faint, rasping wheeze that he heard from Hosea’s lungs pulled him out of his petty thoughts and caused him to look up from where he was hanging his socks to dry, frowning at the older man where he was happily hanging coat and hat.

“Here, Old Girl, let’s get this stove fired up for ya,” he muttered, padding away to grab some logs from the corner to throw in.

He didn’t have to look to see Hosea’s eye roll. “You treat me so kindly in my wizened years.”

Dutch finished shoving in and arranging the logs, then dug around in his satchel for his matches. “You certainly invite such treatment enough with your morbid humor.”

Hosea’s rattle became even more pronounced when he laughed, moving away further into the room as Dutch kindled a flame. “Gotta get my mirth where I can with what years I have left.”

“Says the thirty-year-old.”

“Haven’t known a man yet to live past thirty-six ‘cept my Daddy.”

Dutch whipped his head over his shoulder to wrinkle his nose and narrow his eyes at the blonde. “And remind me, how old was he the last you saw him?”

Hosea shuckled off his jeans and hung them over the footrail of the bed, glancing at him and quirking a brow. “Sixty-four.”

Dutch slowly held out a pointed finger and jabbed the air towards Hosea for emphasis. “So  _ shut up.” _

Hosea snickered.

They spent the rest of the daylight drying themselves out near the stove, curled up with each other on a blanket and reading their respective “wind down” books - Dutch,  _ Self-reliance _ by Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Hosea,  _ Brutis Bingis and the Bungled Cumberbund _ by Barnard Burtleby - while idly heating up a bath for themselves.

When the last light finally became choked out outside, replaced only by the continued roar of thunder that shook the wood and rain hissing on the tin roof, their bath was finally filled and cooled down enough for them to not scald their skin. Hosea politely excused himself for one last outhouse run while Dutch double-checked that the curtains were drawn tight and sudsed up the water, and ten minutes later, they were both sinking down into the tub with deep moans of relief, wrapping their legs around each other’s hips to make ample room for them to both lean back and melt into the steam.

“Thank. God…” Dutch croaked, closing his eyes. He blinked them open again when he felt the texture of a sponge press onto his chest, immediately being met with the dark amber of Hosea’s eyes glinting in the warm firelight, gently crinkled at the edges.

“I was thinkin’... what if I wash you?” Hosea murmured, leaning forward even more.

Dutch breathed out a gentle laugh and went boneless, nodding his head. “You’re certainly the prettiest bath girl  _ I  _ ever did see.”

Hosea hummed at that, a wry smile on his face as he set to work scrubbing around Dutch’s left pectoral, swirling the thick expanse of his chest hair around in a slow spiral towards his nipple, which hardened and perked up at the occasional brush of Hosea’s palm. “And here I am not even in my lingerie.”

Dutch’s cock hardened and perked up at that one.

It didn’t help when Hosea continued, swirling around his other pectoral, “If only you could’ve seen me all dolled up in my fine satin corsets and my stockings.”

“You  _ wha…?” _ Dutch wheezed, blinking rapidly and squirming under the man’s lithe bulk, suddenly  _ very  _ aware of how close their groins were in the water.

Hosea moved the sponge up to press against his throat, his expression falling into something more quiet, more focused. “Used to impersonate women as a gig back in the day.”

Dutch continued to blink at the thought, reaching out to draw the man in closer through the water. “You-...? Wo-Woman…” He struggled to imagine in it — Hosea in dark stockings and heels, sashaying around with his figure gently pinched into an hourglass as skirts swirled around his legs, his handsome face caressed by makeup. He swallowed, thickly, and managed, “Could you- Would you- do that- sometime, in bed-?”

“No,” Hosea said, flat, leaning forward to nip Dutch at the base of his jaw before scrubbing his back in a loose embrace. 

Dutch felt like he’d stepped in a bear trap, cold sharp needles replacing the warm liquid that had tried to pool into his groin. “I didn’t mean- I  _ wasn’t demanding-!  _ Sorry,” he said quickly, tensing up like a coiled spring.

Hosea nipped him again on his neck — so hard that he flinched. “I know. Hush,” he soothed, his voice a dry rumble before pressing a soft kiss over his bite mark, prompting Dutch to shiver. “It’s something I like to tease about, but I don’t think I’d have any fun doing it anymore. Wasn’t doing it for myself the first time and it ruined the fun. Don’t wanna do it again unless it sounds fun for  _ me. _ It ain’t personal.” He leaned back, then, and fixed Dutch with a wolfish smirk. “Teasing you about it, however,  _ is,” _ he added, kissing the tip of his nose.

Dutch pouted at him. “You are a cruel,  _ cruel  _ man, Hosea.”

Hosea wiggled his own nose at him and then went to work picking up one of Dutch’s arms and languidly scrubbing it down. “I love making your life hard.”

Dutch chuffed. “You make other things hard as well.”

“That’s what I’m counting on tonight.”

“Oh-ho?” Dutch purred, melting in the other man’s hold again with a grin, slowly unwinding as Hosea scrubbed under his fingernails.

The older man just sent him a wink.

He could never resist that wink.

“Well how about I give you some attention too?” Dutch drawled, using his free hand to grab the blonde’s muscled back and haul himself close, nuzzling down the length of Hosea’s neck before mouthing at its junction with his shoulder, grabbing a washcloth from the rim to dip in the water and rub at Hosea’s back. Hosea’s breath hitched, just slightly, a faint tremor rolling through his body, and Dutch basked in the victory. “Wanna see you come undone in this tub,” he murmured into Hosea’s skin.

Hosea turned his head to nuzzle into Dutch’s hair. “I had something… special, in mind for tonight,” he murmured back.

Dutch continued to mouth at Hosea’s neck before pressing a trail of kisses along his shoulder, roaming the washcloth all around the man’s sides. “Hm?”

Hosea folded his arms around him and held him fast against his front, forcing them both to pause in their attentions long enough for Hosea to nuzzle his nose up against Dutch’s ear and breathe, “I want you inside me.”

Dutch stilled and blinked — once, twice, thrice.

“You wanna…” he hedged, feeling blood rush to his face and his cock, “you wanna… swallow me?”

Hosea hummed a negative, burrowing his nose into the crook of Dutch’s neck before shifting himself in the tub until he was kneeling on his knees, sending the water sloshing back and forth in a gentle rock. “No,” he murmured, slowly reaching back to wrap his hand around Dutch’s wrist. “No, I want your beautiful cock somewhere else.”

Dutch experienced the unique sensation of his head going completely silent.

“...What… else- is there?” he asked, stiltedly.

He felt Hosea smile against the skin of his shoulder before guiding his washcloth-wielding hand down through the water along the arc of his spine, gliding through the cleft of his ass to nestle-

Dutch’s eyes bugged and he leaned back to look into Hosea’s face.  _ “Huh?” _

Hosea slowly quirked his brow, his eyes twinkling with a muted delight. “Do you not know…?”

Dutch slowly shook his head. “That ain’t for… How is that… How do you… How is that even…?” he floundered, feeling immensely dumb.

The older man chuckled, a warm and rich sound before pecking him on the cheek and meeting his eye. “You didn’t think women got to have all the fun with being penetrated, did you?”

Dutch blinked.

He couldn’t come up with a  _ single thought _ as an answer.

Hosea burst up laughing, wheezing as he slumped his head into Dutch’s chest, getting his hair soapy as he fondly clapped him on the shoulder. That jarred Dutch out of his stupor and made him lean back, grinding his teeth. “Hosea…” he warned.

“Nonono I’m not- making fun of you,” Hosea chuckled, sitting back up again and dropping the sponge into the water to instead cradle Dutch’s face, and Dutch did his best not to pout at Hosea again. He wasn’t entirely sure he succeeded, but Hosea’s expression held nothing but warm fondness when he said, “You’re just cute.”

_ “I’m not cute,” _ Dutch ground out, puffing himself up.

It was Hosea’s turn to pout. “Not even a little bit?”

_ “Can we get back to talking- _ Okay.” Dutch took a deep breath and moved his hands to hold Hosea by the hips, rubbing around them in soft circles before bumping their foreheads together. “Walk me through how this works.  _ Without- _ belittling me. Please.”

“Of course not,” Hosea said quietly, serious as the grave, and his critical eyes were enough assurance that his tongue wasn’t in his cheek. Dutch relaxed as Hosea slid his hands down to Dutch’s ribs. “Obviously we don’t have a cunt back there, so there’s a bit of logistics involved. If you want to take a cock up your rear, it’s usually best to make sure it’s right after you’re  _ sure  _ that it’s empty in there.” Dutch grimaced, and Hosea patted his cheek.  _ “I know, _ I know. But that’s also why you make sure you’re clean down there. You do that, it ain’t no less sanitary than sticking your pecker in a vagina, which is basically a hole full of blood and mucus.”

“Did you… get a lot of women to sleep with you talking like that?” Dutch hedged, his voice dull and hesitant, sinking his head into his shoulders as he felt his arousal dip into the negatives.

_ “My point is,” _ Hosea deadpanned, slowly smiling and shaking his head as he coaxed Dutch back into sitting upright, “bodies are gross. Sex is gross. Anal sex ain’t no different. But…” Hosea slowly tucked a wet curl behind Dutch’s ear, his smile settling down into a severe line once more. “You don’t have to ever try it if you don’t want to. It ain’t for everyone. And the way we’ve been making love so far is more than enough for me.”

Dutch slowly turned his head into Hosea’s hand, focusing on the feeling of the man’s fingertips pressing into his temple and his cheekbone. “But… you’d be the one… taking it… Why check in with  _ me…?” _

Hosea squinted at him and tilted his head. “Do you not think whoever’s doing the penetrating matters?”

“I mean…” Dutch hedged again, his upper lip curling slightly in his wince. The word  _ sodomy  _ swirled around his head, always accompanied by the condescending sneer of his mother, the howls of preachers, and whispers of folk always talking about the act of a man penetrating another as a brutal act of hatred and control. “I’m not… understanding… how that could feel good… for you.”

“Oh it feels  _ very good,” _ Hosea said instantly, but then — hesitated, his eyes growing distant. “Or at least… it’s possible to feel very good. It can also feel… horrible. It’s all about…” Hosea slowly blinked, his eyes focusing again on Dutch’s, and the hazel of his irises were rendered a honey gold in the low light. “...finding someone you trust,” he finished.

Dutch took a deep breath, then slowly, nodded. He leaned forward and stole a kiss from the man he’d bound his soul to and leaned back again, nodding with even firmer resolve. “Okay. If you want to do this… Then I want to try it with you. Just... tell me what to do.”

The corners of Hosea’s eyes crinkled.

“Okay.”

\--

Feeling fresh and clean and being thrown onto the bed by Hosea with an excited, giddy smirk was one thing.

Watching that man mount the bed and straddle his hips, opening a new can of Vaseline and coating his finger in it, all while making aggressive eye contact, was something else.

“You watching?” Hosea prompted, his face cast half in soft reddish light, half in shadow, just like all the rest of his body in its smooth stretch down towards the bed, its angles chiseled even more harshly in the contrast of light and darkness — the modest swell of his pectorals, the lines of his ribs where they ghosted down the sides of his waist, the ridges of his abdomen and the jut of his hipbones where they announced the start of his toned thighs. And of course, of course - those strong, slender hands, made out of delicate lines and steel chords.

“...How could I not?” Dutch breathed, curling his hands around the man’s knees and splaying his fingers out, caressing slowly up the thin platinum blonde hair of his thighs.

Hosea chuckled softly and set the tin down on the side of the bed, sitting himself up taller and taking a deep breath. “Then I’ll get started.”

And with that, Dutch watched as Hosea slowly brought his hand behind him, braced his free hand on Dutch’s stomach, took a steeling breath, and then softly gasped as a faint slick sound slipped in amongst the sounds of the crackling fire. 

A wave of rolling tingles shook through him from his head to his toes as he stared at Hosea beginning to work himself, his expression becoming more and more relaxed with each flex of his arm, his breath hitched into a slow, steady pant. Dutch continued to caress Hosea’s thighs, occasionally sliding his hands up to squeeze Hosea’s hips before sliding back down, staring open-mouthed at the tightening and loosening of the man’s bicep as those little, sweet, slick noises continued.

“How ya doin’?” Duch asked quietly, squirming within the bracket of Hosea’s legs as his cock continued to swell. 

Hosea swallowed, his eyes still lidded in focus. “...Think it would help if you touched me.”

“Well, don’t mind if I do,” Dutch murmured, slipping a hand up to hold Hosea firmly by the hip. He used his other hand to reach forward and curl his wide fingers around the partly-hard length of the older man’s cock, gently coaxing it upwards with slow, lazy caresses and tugs, dragging the callus on his thumb along the side before swiping it up over the head. Hosea made a low noise in his throat and shifted his hips further into Dutch’s hand, arching his spine before rocking back in a  _ sharp, _ quick motion, punching a choked-off whimper from his throat alongside a particularly wet noise.

“H-Hosea…” Dutch managed, shivering as he began caressing both Hosea’s hip and cock, looking up to try and meet the man’s gaze. “You’re… doin’... things… to me…”

Hosea’s mouth slowly pulled up into a warm smirk. “Good,” he murmured, blinking his eyes open to gaze down at him with a look full of so much soft reverence that Dutch wanted the mattress to swallow him whole. When he next spoke, his voice was a low growl. “‘Cause I want you to do things to  _ me.” _

“I hate your jokes,” Dutch croaked, shoving his head harshly back into the pillow as his hips start canting upwards, his cock rising to full hardness to nestle its head against Hosea’s balls, making Hosea’s breath hitch once more.

“You love ‘em,” Hosea quipped, grinding his hips down to caress the length of Dutch’s cock with his own before rising again. “Need another finger now. Would you like to join me?”

Dutch blinked, then blinked again. “Yeah,” he wheezed.

Hosea chuckled and shuffled further up on his knees to where he was straddling Dutch’s stomach, gesturing his head at the petroleum jelly tin. “Then slick a finger up and find mine.”

Dutch did as he was told, letting go of Hosea entirely to thoroughly coat his right pointer finger in the cold jelly before setting it aside once more, looking up at Hosea for the okay - Hosea nodded - before reaching between Hosea’s legs, gliding his finger along the arc of Hosea’s taint before bumping it against Hosea’s own finger where it was still slowly and languidly pumping. “Go on,” Hosea murmured, and after a brief nod, Dutch braced Hosea’s hip again and slowly slid his finger into the warm tight heat. Hosea tilted his head back as his chest heaved and breathed, “That’s it… nice and slow… easy and slow… please…”

“‘Course,” Dutch replied, hoarse, right before he sat himself upright to begin clumsily pressing kisses all over Hosea’s chest, swirling his tongue around the man’s nipples whenever he came across them and suckling them into his mouth to draw out broken croaks from Hosea’s throat, all while slowly sliding his finger in further and further until it hit his bottom knuckle, leaving Hosea’s finger to continue its work to ease him open and loose.

Then Hosea’s free hand came up to grab a tight fistful of his free and floppy curls and Dutch sucked in a gasp so sharp he almost choked, letting out a broken whimper the next second.

“You like that, do you?” Hosea rumbled.

_ “Hosea…” _ Dutch whined, hiding his face in the man’s chest.

“Well I  _ love  _ your curls,” Hosea continued, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “So much so I want both my hands to play with them. Think you can keep working me open with three fingers, zeeskeit?”

“I- I-I-  _ Yeah.” _

“Well alright then.”

Just like that, Hosea slipped his finger out of himself and grabbed their bathcloth where it was hung on the headrail, wiping his finger clean before setting it over the rail again, then cradled Dutch’s head with both hands to plant a loud kiss to his forehead. “What position do you want me in, b’shert?”

Dutch blinked dumbly yet again. “I get- to choose?”

His forehead met the soft press of Hosea’s lips once more. “Don’t want your wrist to get strained.”

Dutch stared into Hosea’s eyes for a long moment… then beamed a warm laugh directly from his belly, stretching his head up to kiss his partner’s chin. “On your hands and knees? With me leaning over you so you can reach my cur-?”

“Yes,” Hosea responded, already moving, and Dutch laughed louder.

In a matter of seconds, the both of them managed to shuffle around to where Hosea was laying with his forehead mashed into the mattress, his arms lazily resting above his head with his ass raised high in the air and his knees parted, with Dutch kneeling behind, shakily coating three of his fingers in petroleum jelly before nudging his fingers against the widened, dark shadow of Hosea’s hole. “Okay… I’m gonna- go in now. Nice and easy.”

“Come on,” Hosea whispered, and with a heavy kiss to the small of his back, Dutch slowly slid his fingers in, pausing every time Hosea sucked in air through his teeth and tightened around his fingers, and continuing every time Hosea relaxed with a long breath and a nod of his head.

Eventually, all three of his fingers were down to the bottom knuckle, and he did his best to not let his voice shake when he asked, “How we doin’?”

“It’s- been a few years since I did this,” Hosea confessed, his voice strained as he slowly panted. “But God…  _ God… I’m loving this…” _ He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “Can’t wait to feel your cock stretch me.”

“I-” Dutch’s voice died and he was left to curl over the older man’s back with a shiver rolling through his entire frame, using his free arm to hug Hosea’s stomach in a desperate attempt to ground himself. He tried to speak, but all that came out were garbled babbles as his flushed cock leaked pre-come onto the sheets with a twitch.

“Move, b’shert,” Hosea gently ordered, rocking back onto his fingers, and Dutch rattled himself to start gently working his fingers in a slow back and forth. He jolted when he felt both of Hosea’s hands knead into his hair and massage at his scalp where his face was mashed between the man’s shoulder blades. “That’s it, Dutch,  _ that’s it… Good… _ You’re doing- such a good job…”

“Y-  _ Hungh,” _ Dutch managed in response, decided to mouth at Hosea’s back as his brain slowly whited out at the feeling of slick heat wrapped around his fingers and hands working through and pulling his hair, desperately trying to keep himself together.

“Okay.”

Dutch blinked. “Hn?” 

How much time had passed?

“I think I’m ready for you to be inside me, sweetheart. Mind laying on your back for me? I want to see you when I slide onto you.”

“I- Uh, ungh, uh-huh,” he panted, shaking his head and sitting up. He gently slid his hands out of Hosea’s hole with a  _ wet  _ noise that made him and Hosea both whimper.

The next thing he knew, Hosea was upright and manhandling him to flop onto his back, tossing the bathcloth onto his greased hand. “Go ahead and clean up,” Hosea ordered, “I’m gonna slick your cock up for me.”

In a dull haze, Dutch slowly scrubbed his hand clean with the as Hosea gathered a liberal amount of jelly onto his fingers and then _ tightly grabbed his cock with the cold gel and pumped it to smear it- _

Dutch let out a small scream.

Just a small one.

“Cold?” Hosea asked innocently, batting his eyes and letting him go. “I got someplace warm it could go,” he finished with a wink.

Dutch let out a long, gravelly, shrill, angry whine as he narrowed his eyes and slapped the cloth onto Hosea’s gelled hand. Hosea graciously accepted it with a giggle that sounded like bells, and Dutch melted — for a second.

Because the next second, Hosea was tossing the ruined cloth aside onto the floor and lining himself up over Dutch’s weeping cock, nestling its head against his entrance, and Dutch gasped and fisted his hands into sheets as Hosea said, “Ready? ‘Cause here… we…” he felt his balls tighten as Hosea gently rocked against him “g-”

_ “Stop _ stopstopstopstop stop stop  _ stop-” _

Hosea sprang off of him in alarm, his eyes so wide Dutch could see their whites, and Dutch quickly curled onto his side and lifted his leg to shield his cock from touch as he grabbed the pillow and shoved it over his face in mortification.

“Dutch?!” Hosea asked sharply, grabbing him gently by the ribs and his shoulder before tugging at the pillow. “Dutch? Hey. Dearest, are you okay?” The pillow was finally tugged off his face, and Dutch slammed his eyes shut and tilted his head back to hide their stinging. He felt Hosea’s hands frame his face a second later, smoothing his hair back away from his eyes.  _ “Dutch. _ Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

_ “Mmmmmn…” _ he groaned.

“Mmmmmn?”

“Gonna…” He forced his eyes open and sucked in a deep breath. “Gonna… come… in half… a goddamn second… If you keep… doing things… And I  _ don’t… want… to ruin…” _

“Ruin what?” Hosea prompted, his brow furrowed in concern as he continued running his fingers through Dutch’s hair.

“Ruin… this. For you,” Dutch finished weakly.

Hosea stared at him for a long moment, then melted into a warm smile, bumping their foreheads together. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.”

_ “Don’t belittle me.” _

“I’m not,” Hosea swore quietly, pressing a kiss to his forehead again. “I  _ promise  _ I’m not. It’s just… I’ve rarely had anyone care about making  _ me  _ feel good.”

“Which is why I-” Dutch’s voice cracked and he snapped his mouth shut with a frustrated noise. “Don’t want to be a two-thrust  _ fool.” _

Hosea slowly quirked his brow. “You think I’d think you a fool?”

_ “No, _ I-” Dutch made another frustrated noise and threw his arm over his eyes. “You just… you deserve better than me…  _ ruining it…” _

Hosea firmly pulled Dutch’s arm off of his face and flicked him on the nose, making him squawk. “And what if I’d  _ like it _ if all I got was the feeling of you filling me up with your come?”

Dutch’s vision whited out again and he made a strained noise not unlike a dying elk.

Hosea’s voice was right next to his ear when he rumbled, “And what if I get off by fucking your thighs afterwards?”

_ “‘Sea-” _ he choked.

“Does that sound nice?”

Dutch heaved in a breath and blinked, hard, then nodded rapidly.  _ “Yes. _ Yeah. Yes.  _ Please. Fuck.” _

“You ready for me, big boy?” Hosea prompted, an excited light twinkling in his eyes before he stole a kiss and sat himself back up.

Dutch clenched his hands on each of Hosea’s hips and settled back on his back. “Uh-huh.”

Without a word, Hosea guided Dutch’s cockhead back against his entrance and then sank down onto him in one slow motion, sheathing his cock in  _ tightwetsoftheat _ and Dutch saw  _ stars,  _ and-

Hosea  _ clenched  _ around him with an absent,  _ “Oh, _ you’re thick,” and just like that, Dutch started spilling.  _ “Oh.” _

Dutch’s hands went white-knuckled around Hosea’s hips, and he desperately gasped out, “Thrust?”

Hosea gaped like a fish and nodded, and Dutch punched out a thankful sigh as he started shallowly thrusting up into him to ride out the pulses — then until the aftershocks were finished, leaving him to collapse into the bed, boneless and sated and gasping.

When he could finally focus again, Hosea looked  _ ravenous, _ flushed and panting and shaking slightly, staring down at him with wide eyes and an open jaw as his walls absently spasmed around his oversensitive cock.

“Beautiful,” the older man breathed. “Beautiful. God.  _ Damn… Oh.”  _ His mouth twitched up into a shaky smile. “Still feel okay with me fucking your thighs, darling?”

Dutch nodded his head as his entire body spasmed off and on. “Yes… please…”

Hosea quickly lifted himself off of his cock with an  _ obscene  _ noise alongside the even more obscene sight of his spend slipping out to slide down the man’s thighs. “On your stomach.”

Dutch didn’t need to be told twice.

He heard the sound of the petroleum jelly tin once more, along with the slick sound of Hosea lubing up his cock. “Legs tight together for me?” Dutch obeyed without question as he formed a pillow for his head with his arms. “Good boy. You ready?”

The term  _ Good boy _ made a lightning bolt of pleasure shoot back into his cock. “Fuck yes,” he gasped.

The next thing he felt was the hot, soothing weight of Hosea settling over his back as the man’s cock slid between his thighs. He arched upwards so that Hosea could wrap his arms around him in a fierce embrace, and then braced himself as the man started thrusting with a messy array of feverish kisses across his shoulders and the back of his neck.

He could’ve gone to sleep at the feeling, so lovely and comfortable it was amongst the drunk soup of love and pleasure his brain was floating in, like a sleepy duck on the water, lulled into goo by Hosea’s noises of pleasure.

With two hard, slow thrusts, Hosea came, gasping for breath into his back, spilling himself onto the bedspread as his cock twitched and spasmed between the muscles of Dutch’s thighs.

When Hosea’s hand came up to caress the side of his face, he turned his head to suck two fingers into his mouth as Hosea pressed long, heavy kisses to the nape of his neck.

“I love you… so much,” Hosea breathed, nestling into him.

Dutch slid his mouth off of Hosea’s fingers to breathe, “I love you… so much… too…”

His hand floundered until it found Hosea’s, then tangled their fingers together as they both laid there, sinking into the warmth and joy of each other —

— and the comfort of their love.

A love without conditions.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally intended to be a oneshot, but... it feels _right_ to split it into three chapters, which is extremely unorthodox for this series, but... it feels utterly wrong to split this up into three separate fics, as they all ultimately explore the same concept. So...! Here we are. I hope you all enjoy ♥


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